Transmigration: The Little Chef Calls The Shots

Panpan dug her nails into her palm, aware she couldn’t do as she wished. He was the eldest son of Master Magistrate, and she was just a little village girl, a maid. She had to be cunning, to use someone else’s hand to achieve her goal.

Now, an excellent opportunity laid before her. Panpan sneered, Maternal Aunt Lin, don’t blame me; It’s your own dishonest heart that’s to blame.

It was thought that there would be no more customers that morning, but unexpectedly, just before lunchtime, Rice Flower Fragrance welcomed a small group of customers who had heard the news and come. Though they only bought some moderately-priced pastries, the sheer number of people almost had Meng Liangdong’s hands glued to the abacus again.

Liuzi, having worked at Fuman Building, hurriedly ran to Lin Yuan after the customers left, pointed to the two young girls who had just left, and whispered with a laugh, "Boss, did you see those two maids clearly?"

Lin Yuan nodded.

Seeing that she hadn’t recognized them, Liuzi giggled and nudged her with his chin, "Do you remember the young ladies who came with Second Miss Jin this morning? Weren’t there two who made excuses about sore throats to avoid buying our pastries? Just now, those two were their maids. I remember them clearly; I’m positive I’m not mistaken."

Lin Yuan knew Liuzi’s skill in recognizing people; if he was confident enough to guarantee it, then he must be right.

Watching the eager look on Liuzi’s face, Lin Yuan couldn’t help but smile, "Perhaps their throats are better now, or they’re taking the pastries back for their families. Look at you, gossiping about customers behind their backs, is this what Shopkeeper Liu from Fuman Building taught you?"